


Toujours

by amonkeysue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amonkeysue/pseuds/amonkeysue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several random, fluffy Clintasha drabbles to combat sadness</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. little by little

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd, just whatever pops in mind.

Natasha settled on the couch next to Clint, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder as she drew her legs up underneath her.

“Hey babe.”

“That’s not one of your usual names,” she murmured, bemused. She contentedly shut her eyes and snuggled against Clint.

He grinned and rested his head against hers. “Time to mix it up I guess.”

She smiled. “Thought you were supposed to tell me before doing something like that. In the name of fair warning and all that. It’s being responsible.”

“Mmm.”

After Clint reached for Natasha’s hand, both were silent until Clint shifted.

“How’re you feeling?” Natasha softly asked.

Clint remembered not to shrug, for both the medical aspect of things and the fact that he was supporting Natasha. Instead, he lifted his free hand and waggled it from side to side. “Eh. My side still hurts a little, but I’ve definitely had worse.”

Natasha shifted her head to look down at Clint’s chest. She let go of his hand to grab the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up, only to frown at the underlying bandages. 

“You’re not exacerbating it, are you?”

He couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Of course not Nat. You’re not the only one who wants it to heal.”

“I just want you not to be stupid again.”

“You know me. I’m chock full of stupid ideas.”

“That doesn’t give you any excuse for acting on them,” Natasha pointedly reminded. 

“Well ’m impossible.” He wrapped an arm around Natasha’s waist in one fluid motion, slightly pulling her closer.

She leaned against him. “As I am well aware. I did know what I was in for when I opted for a relationship with an impulsive archer after all. Pretty damn good except for his habit of not thinking through things and getting hurt.”

Clint rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Sounds like a character.”

“Mmhmm.”

He craned his head down to kiss her forehead. “Love you Nat.”

“Love you too Barton.”

“Wow. We both are pulling out names used long, long ago tonight.”

Natasha poked his chest. “You started it.”

“That wasn’t a stupid idea.”

Natasha widely smiled. "For once."


	2. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter leaves Clint trying to convince Natasha that they need a dog in their life.

“Pizza dog?” Clint hopefully offered.

Natasha cast him a withering look. “Really Clint? A- This is a random dog. B- What would we do with a dog? C- Pizza dog? We’re more creative than that.”

“I don’t see you offering any ideas.”

“Because we’re not getting a dog,” she slowly stated.

Clint ruffled the dog’s blonde fur and stood up. “We could do it. It’d be fun.” He tried to look as young and innocent as possible, with the hope of a child on Christmas morning thrown into the mix. In theory, it was supposed to break Natasha’s resolve.

But to no avail.

“Again, we’re not getting a dog.” Natasha crossed her arms.

“Aw, c’mon Nat. Think of the possibilities. We could train him to bring in the paper!”

She sighed. “We don’t get the paper.”

He dismissively shrugged. “Point is, we could use a dog.”

“Clint, your example didn’t even work.”

“We could get the paper. It’d be a normal thing to do.”

“Except we’re a far cry from normal and we both know that.” Natasha frowned at Clint as he continued to look sweetly hopeful. She complained, “Clint, you’re a grown man. You know better than to whine about something until you get it.”

“I’m not whining,” he commented back with a grin.

“Yeah, you’re acting like a two year old without a temper tantrum and it’s actually more than a little weird, so let’s just move on from the dog and call it good.”

“Nat.”

“Clint, no.”

“Nat, look at his face.” Clint knelt beside the dog. “That is a sad face because he doesn’t have anyone to love him.”

With a sigh, Natasha tossed her head. “His expression hasn’t changed. He just keeps on looking at you.”

Clint pointed at Natasha. “Exactly!” He patted the dog’s head. “Pizza dog knows I’ll love him, and that you will too! He’s depending on us! This is our chance to show him the affection he deserves! And look at that face Nat. You can’t say no to a face like that. It’s in his eyes. Expectancy. Of us. To take him in.”

“We are not taking in a stray dog,” she flat out stated.

“He needs us. He eats pizza. He could be a very comforting presence when we need him to be. How many more reasons do we need?”

Natasha pointed out, “How are we supposed to take care of a dog when we’re on missions?”

“Does that mean you’re willing to let him in?”

“That means I’m trying to get you to think through all aspects of taking in a dog.”

“We’d find someone to dog-sit him while we’re on a mission.”

“You know perfectly well how long we can be gone at times. If he gets attached, it’s going to be tough on him to leave him with a sitter. And I’m not sure how pricey dog sitters run at. With our schedules, we could run up a decent bill.”

“But that’s all secondary compared to the joy of having a dog! And I’m sure we could get a nice rate from someone at the apartments! Everyone loves me!”

Natasha guffawed. “Everyone?”

Clint made a shaky hand gesture. “Okay, so the tracksuit bro guys really don’t like me. But that’s entirely beside the point! Right now, we’re talking about Pizza dog and how he needs a home with us!”

She stared at Clint. He mustered something akin to puppy dog eyes.

“Okay,” Natasha slowly sighed, “we can take the dog home, but we’re calling him Lucky.”

If Clint would have been a five year old, he probably would have squealed in excitement. As it was, he pulled Natasha into a kiss. “Lucky it is then. He’s going to love you.”

“Oh no. Two boys in love with me. Whatever shall I do?” she playfully teased.

“Guess you’ve just got to work with both of us.” Clint kissed her again.

“Well I _suppose_ I can manage that.”

Lucky happily barked and wagged his tail in excitement while he trotted over to rub against Clint’s legs.

“So this is going to be our little family.”

Natasha brightly laughed.


	3. Simplicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha have a short little moment on the roof of Avengers Tower

In a game of hide and seek, naturally Clint and Natasha would end up on the roof together.

At first they stood and stared at one another for a moment before Clint quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re not the one looking for everyone else, right? Since that would make this fairly awkward after that pause and all. If you’re not the one looking for everyone else, than I vote we stay up here until someone finds us or it gets too late. But it’s beautiful, and we don’t get to look at skies like this too often.”

Natasha smiled. “Last I heard Steve was the one looking.”

“That’s good.” He extended his arm for Natasha to hook hers through. “Sorry about not planning ahead for something like candles.”

“The sun is still setting and let’s be honest, we’re up in New York City. There’ll be enough light.”

“Blankets would still be nice.”

At that Natasha chuckled. “We’ve been through worse,” she reminded.

Clint shrugged. “Okay, true. But,” he tacked on, “you’re also wearing a hoodie right now, which kinda makes a difference as far as how you’re feeling the temperature.”

“It’s not my fault you chose to wear short sleeves.”

“Touché.”

They had migrated away from the door to the roof’s edge, opting to dangle their feet over the edge while leaning on each other. Clint rested an arm around Natasha’s shoulders.

The sky was a wash of yellow and pink, hints of purple peeking out from clouds in the distance.

She snuggled closer against Clint’s side after moving to hug him around the waist.

He softly smiled. “We should sneak up here more often.”

“Agreed,” Natasha contentedly murmured.


	4. It's What Birds Do

“I,” Clint happily declared, “am making a nest. Care to join me?”

He was hardly the best at the whole ‘puppy dog eyes’ thing, but he was getting there. Natasha gave him a guarded sideways glance. She had just barely picked up a series of new field agent’s first reports to look over.

“I,” she replied, “am trying to get my favor to Maria out of the way while I have time for it.”

“Awww, Nat. C’mon.” He stepped out of the doorframe to stand behind Natasha at the desk, carefully gathering her hair back into a little ponytail. “You can either do paperwork or have fun making a nest that you could do the paperwork in later, making it actually somewhat enjoyable. The nest clearly seems like the best option.”

Natasha tried to hide her smile with an exaggerated sigh. She craned her head back to look up at Clint and his accompanying hopeful grin. “First off, again, I hope you realize you’re not a bird. Fondness for gummy worms and bird of prey related codename aside. With that in mind, secondly, you still need to elaborate on what this nest would consist of,” she said while placing the reports back down.

His grin almost turned triumphant. Almost.

“It’d be pretty simple. Use the couch and loveseat to help with some of the shaping. Fill in with pillows and blankets.”

“Okay, I _suppose_ we can make this nest of yours.” She stood and pointedly looked to Clint. “But after construction, I’m finishing looking through the reports before anything else. Deal?”

“Deal.”


	5. As You Wish

When they weren’t operating as Strike Team Delta or Avengers members, SHIELD liked to snatch either Clint or Natasha up for various short ops or one-day rookie agent training sessions.

For once, they had managed to get home within minutes of each other.

“So,” Clint drawled as he heard the bedroom door open behind him, “how’d your day go?”

Natasha shrugged and smiled. “The usual. You?”

“One of these days I’m probably gonna start a Nerf war with Coulson. Be warned.”

She lightly laughed. “If you say so.”

All the SHIELD gear came off in lieu of casual clothes. Natasha reached for a pair of shorts and a black tank top. Clint went for a well-loved Star Wars logo t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Movie night?” Clint suggested out of the blue.

“Mmm, yeah, in a little bit. I don’t know about you, but I want something to eat.” 

Natasha beelined for the fridge, letting out a deep sigh a second later. She closed the door and opened it again moments later, crouching down to better shift around containers.

Clint crossed his arms and leaned against the near doorframe, starting to smile. “Nat, whatever you’re looking for I doubt it’s just magically going to appear just because you reopened the fridge.”

She flapped a dismissive hand at Clint. “Oh shush.”

“What’re you looking for anyhow?”

“I was hoping some of that lasagna was still hanging around, but I guess not.” Natasha frowned at the fridge door while she shut it.

He slowly nodded while shifting to stand straight. “So lasagna would take some time to put together, but we could just easily toss together-.”

Natasha extended her arm to rest a finger on Clint’s mouth, effectively cutting him off. “Hold that thought please.” She fished out a Tupperware of pasta salad and held it up. “I think I’m going to settle for this.”

“That does look good.”

“And I’ll let you pick the movie.”

Clint loosed a cheesy smile and began to imitate an evil laugh while clasping his hands together and keeping step behind Natasha as she pulled plates out of the cupboard. “I feel the power of this decision...” He trailed off, letting the laugh die. “But I actually am struggling with the whole actually making the decision bit.”

“Maybe grabbing forks will help.”

“As you wish.” He immediately straightened. “I’ve got it! The Princess Bride!”

She inclined her head in agreement and headed for the living room. Clint started to follow, only to hastily turn back around and start a bag of popcorn in the microwave before settling down on the couch beside Natasha.

“We’re still missing something.”

Clint jumped back off the couch. “Movie on and drinks. Got it.”

Natasha let the previews run as Clint waited for another bag of popcorn to finish before he curled up beside her on the couch again. She leaned over on his shoulder.

“Finally got everything?”

“Movie, food, and you. Yep, we’re good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha absolutely quote the whole movie at each other the whole time. :)


	6. Weekend Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (There's a Clintasha Week happening over on tumblr, and updating this seemed to be a really great way to fit with the Day 5 "Domestic" theme!)

Clint scooting onto the couch beside Natasha as she was reading was not uncommon. She wordlessly shut her book as soon as he reached over and started parting her hair.

“Don’t mind me,” he murmured, “I’m just braiding now that you’ve got some length back.”

She set the book down. “English or French?”

“Aww, what if I wanted to surprise you with a fishtail?”

Natasha half laughed while trying to keep still. “I don’t think I have quite enough for a decent fishtail. It’d look a little sad.”

“I think it’d be fine,” Clint insisted while adjusting his arrangement of hair sections to begin a French braid.

“You’re also a fan of your own handiwork.”

Clint momentarily stopped braiding as he chuckled. “Well it’s not like Fury’s gonna let me showcase this particular talent of mine on him, and it has limited mission use, especially with your chopping habits.”

“Well,” Natasha drily said, “I hate to break your illusions but we’re not in the modeling business, Barton.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’d want to splash my face anywhere. Maybe I could work makeup or hair. Don’t think anyone would want to set me on clothes design either.”

With the French part of the braiding done, Natasha maneuvered closer to Clint as he continued with the traditional English crossing to finish. “You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”

“Do trick arrows count here?”

“If we’re being literal, no.”

He pulled the hair tie he had grabbed before sitting down by Natasha off his wrist and secured the end of the braid before letting it fall against her back. “Guess it’s a good thing we’ve got our occupation all figured out already.” He wrapped his arms around Natasha’s waist. “At least we get some weekends off.”

She started to adjust her positioning so as to rest her head against Clint’s shoulder. “I think we’ve already decided to stay here.”

“I’m feeling like making a cake in the rice cooker.”

“That’d be good.”

Clint let go of Natasha as she leaned forward and away from the couch. “You can keep on reading if you want. I’ll be back to bother you when it’s baking,” he wryly remarked before kissing Natasha.

She smiled as he pulled away. “Just don’t forget to at least rinse your dishes before coming back.”

“I’ll even put them in the dishwasher.”


	7. Gingerbread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the 2017 Clintasha Advent calendar.

If there was any one advantage to working with the Avengers instead of SHIELD, it was that extended breaks could actually be more of a thing without any prompting injury.

“Hey,” Clint asked while still cuddled up with Natasha in bed, “do you want a gingerbread house?”

She twisted to directly face him and raised a brow. “Do you know how to make a gingerbread house?”

“Course I do. You just follow the gingerbread recipe, let it cool completely, and then assemble and decorate it.” He chuckled. “Assemble. Get it?”

“I got it.” Natasha managed not to smile at Clint’s antic. She groaned a moment later as he retracted his arms from around her and unapologetically threw off the blanket as he slid off the bed.

“’s not that cold.”

“That’s not the point. Pulling off the blankets without any warning is a breach of my trust.” Natasha had opted to sit up with her arms around her knees rather than pull the blanket back to cover her, fully awakened by the air flow.

Clint quickly ducked down to kiss her, unable to keep from grinning as he pulled back. “Is it enough to say I’m sorry?”

“Just this once.”

He nodded. “Now I’m going to check out some gingerbread recipes and see what looks shortest, if you still want to sleep.”

“Uhuh.” She quirked a brow. “I think we’d be better off just buying a pre-made kit from the store for the sake of time and probably the gingerbread.”

“Then I’ll go get that.”

Natasha laughed. “If you’re so set on having one, go ahead.”

~

Clint laid out the pieces of the gingerbread house on the countertop while Natasha prepped the frosting.

“So what sort of decoration style do you want to go for?” he asked. “Something more traditional or a little off the beaten path? Icicles off the roof?”

“Depends on which one of us is frosting.” She lightly bumped Clint’s hip with her own. “Your hands might be a bit steadier.”

“Oh? Last I checked we both had pretty steady hands.”

She smirked. “Doesn’t mean I can’t comment on and suggest yours. You pick if you want the icicles and any frosting swags, I’ll handle the candy trimming and positioning.”

“Can I use this moment to compliment your knife skills?”

“You can, these are going to be some well-trimmed gumdrops.”

They went about setting up the walls of the gingerbread house, taking a lunch break as it set before adding the roof.

“You know,” Clint said as he started frosting a crosshatch design on the roof, “we could always make a tradition out of this. Not that we ever seem to have too much time, but maybe now with the Avengers schedule we can consider more than the occasional decoration.”

Natasha put a small handful of diced gumdrops down beside the house. “I imagine that in the future you would want to start baking our own gingerbread?”

He laughed and finished the edge of one side of the roof’s crosshatching. “I’ll have the time to do some research and a little bit of trial and error on our next breaks, so we might as well learn a little about gingerbread from scratch.”

“It seems likely that the others wouldn’t complain if we started bringing a few cookies along on missions.” Natasha pressed a piece of candy from the kit into a frosting dot between lines of the crosshatching that Clint had put down. “Which I don’t see anyone complaining about.”


End file.
